


What a fuck up

by greeny1710



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: ENJOY IT, I Don't Even Know, Like really OOC, M/M, Why Did I Write This?, bc swearing is a thing that i do a lot, idek what this is lol, im trash, so ooc it's hilarious, swearing too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 07:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11550609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeny1710/pseuds/greeny1710
Summary: Seven months.It takes seven months for Deckard to think he's fucked up enough for Luke to leave.He's not even surprised anymore.





	What a fuck up

**Author's Note:**

> lol this is trash
> 
> i wrote most of this whilst at the hairdressers today, bc i had eighteen inches of hair cut off for the Little Princess Trust, which is a charity that makes wigs for kids in the UK that have lost their hair for whatever reason, and so i needed a distraction and thus the last idek how much of this fic was written.
> 
> this hasn't been beta'd, so feel free to point out any thing that needs fixing.
> 
> again, this is incredibly OOC for Deck, but i feel like he's the type of guy who is a right softy when it comes to those he loves/cares about. 
> 
> prompt is at the bottom of the fic

Deckard and Luke had been dating for seven months when Deckard thought he'd fucked up enough to end the relationship.

His younger brother, Owen, had had another operation on his face to have some of the burn scars covered more cleanly, and so Deckard had been called back to England to help look after his nephew, Finley. As a result, with Luke staying back in LA so that Sam didn't miss any school, the two had resorted to phone calls to stay in touch. 

Even the phone calls weren't enough, what with the time difference between them. By time Deckard was getting up and getting on with his day, Luke was just going to bed and they didn't have enough time to get a satisfactory conversation. And with trying to look after a four-year-old child, Deckard was always too busy to chat during the day. 

Owen had been released into the care of his family after two weeks in the hospital, and Deckard had stuck around to help with anything that his brother would need whilst Owen's other-half was at work. 

Three days helping out at Owen's place was enough to send Deckard mental and he was on the verge of throttling Owen. So when the opportunity arose for them to go for Sunday dinner at their Mum's, Deckard jumped at the chance and told Magdalene Shaw to expect Deckard, Owen, Owen's husband Raider and Finley. The four of them drove over in Owen's Aston Martin DB9 and when they arrived, the youngest Shaw sibling, their little sister, Faith, met them at the door. 

Immediately she jumped on Deckard and started questioning him about Luke, asking when he'd next be over to visit and whether she could go out to see Deckard in New York any time soon. Whilst Deckard pushed her away and said no, they both knew it was a lie and that Faith would probably be out in America visiting by the end of the month. 

Owen's son ran ahead of them and sprinted through the house to find his Grandmother and Owen followed with Faith. Deckard hung back at the door in order to answer his phone that he’d felt buzzing in his pocket, but couldn’t answer when Owen’s other-half stuck back to grin at Deckard.

“Been a while since you’ve spoken to Luke, has it?” Raider grinned.

Deckard glared at Raider as he pulled his phone from his pocket and shoved the Kid away when he swiped to answer it. As he answered the phone, he knew Luke could hear the backend of Raider’s laughter and Deckard’s huff of annoyance at his brother-in-law. 

“’lo?” 

“Morning, Princess,” Luke drawled, causing Deckard to role his eyes.

“It’s afternoon here, you know that,” Deckard replied, kicking a stone around as he spoke, “It’s 5:30 where you are, right?”

“Yeah, just getting up to attempt to make pancakes that are up to Sam’s liking. It seems that someone who doesn’t even like pancakes is better at making them than me.”

Deckard just laughed, knowing that Luke was complaining that Sam seemed to like Deckard’s pancakes way more than when Luke made them, even though she’d grown up eating them.

“What can I say,” Deckard told him, “Sam knows what’s best.”

Luke attempted to argue but Deckard knew it was half-hearted.

"I've been making that girl pancakes for the eleven years she's been alive. It's an injustice that she suddenly doesn't like them anymore," Deckard laughed at Luke's mock-anger, but abruptly stopped laughing when the conversation took a more serious tone, "Sam's been asking after you again, keeps asking when you're coming home."

"Soon," Deckard told him, dropping his voice to a quieter volume, "Owen's getting better and Finley goes back to school in the next few days. Raider said he's getting his work hours sorted tomorrow so that he can work from home for a few weeks to make things easier. He'll let me know tomorrow and then I'll either be on a flight home by the end of the week or I'll be staying for a bit longer."

"Good, Sam misses you." Luke responded, but Deckard could hear the undertone of 'I miss you'.

As Deckard intended to respond, he was assaulted by Finley jumping onto his legs and Deckard's quick responses stopped the boy from flopping back down onto the floor and hitting his head. 

"Nana says you gotta stop talking and come eat the food now." Finley told him, looking up at Deckard with bright, wide eyes that reminded him of Owen.

"Alright kid, I'll be there in a minute, go bug your Dad," Deckard gently dropped Finley to the floor and sent him on his way.

"You've got to go?"

"Yeah, Mum's plating up and if I don't go and get washed up before dinner she won't let me eat. I'll be in touch if I try to strangle Owen again." 

Luke huffed out a laugh and Deckard smirked in response.

"You do that, Princess. Call me later if you need to."

"Alright, I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye, tea and crumpets."

"Bye," Deckard repeated, laughing, "Love you, bye."

Deckard heard silence on the other end of the phone and pulled the phone away from his ear as he pressed the end call button. He took a step forward toward the kitchen/dining room, when it suddenly clicked as to why he'd heard no response.

Owen was passing a plate of food over to his son when they all looked up and over at the doorway, having heard Deckard announce quite loudly, 

"FUCK."

"Uncle Deckard swore,” Finley muttered, looking unimpressed.

He was quickly hushed by his parents as Raider nodded at Owen to go and deal with Deckard. 

Deckard stood stock-still in the hallway connecting the front of the house to the kitchen/diner. His eyes were bugged wide and if Owen looked correctly, Deckard had definitely paled more than he already was.

"You alright?" Owen asked as he leaned against the doorframe. His tone was nonchalant but Deckard knew there was a sense of him that was looking to see if he needed to go and kill Hobbs. 

"That the first time you told him you love him?" Owen asked when Deckard didn't respond. He only received a nod in response, as though Deckard didn't know how to speak anymore.

"It's too early," his voice barely above a whisper, "We've not been together long enough, he's not ready for this. I fucked up, O. I fucked up."

Owen stepped forward and punched Deckard in the jaw. Not hard enough to cause any damage, but enough to shock Deckard. His hand flew to his jaw and his other hand formed a fist. 

"Shut up. If he's half the man you seem to think he is, you saying that you love him shouldn't scare him of. And if it does, he's not the right guy for you, Deck."

"It's not that easy, Owen. He's got a kid."

"So? Sam already loves you, she brags about having you to the girls she plays football with. You're the one that lets her get away with bloody murder if you needed to and you'd take the wrap for it if needed. Hobbs knows that, and if he drops your ass still, I'll send Finley after him," Owen joked, trying to cheer Deckard up a bit.

"When you told Raider you love him he freaked out." 

"He was also sixteen and never been in a relationship before. It's different. You can't compare my relationship with him to Hobbs and you. Everyone reacts differently and the fact that he isn't saying anything could be good. Some people need time to process it and maybe when you go back, things will be good. That's all that matters, Deck. Just fix things with him."

Deckard took a moment to consider what Owen had said, knowing that there was no point really dwelling on the matter until he could get back out to the US to see Luke and talk about it properly.

"You're alright sometimes, Scarface," Deckard told his little brother, reaching forward to ruffle Owen's hair. It had grown out on top since Owen had left the military and criminal life to raise his son, and it suited him. It reminded Deckard of when Owen was younger.

"Yeah whatever. Let's go eat."

Owen ducked out from Deckard's hold and walked back to the kitchen, dropping a kiss on his son’s head and then dropped down next to his husband. Deckard watched as Owen moved around with a sense of fluidity, moving around those he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Was that what Deckard wanted? Did Luke think that when Deckard was eating dinner with him and Sam?

Before he sat down, Deckard washed his hands and then joined his mother, brother and in-law, nephew and sister at the table. They tucked into dinner and it was nice. It was normal and no one mentioned Deckard outburst earlier. 

Apart from Finley.

Deckard felt something get pelted at the side of his face, and he looked up to see Finley holding a spoon with peas on it.

"Swear again and I'll through more than just peas at your face. Understand?"

Deckard laughed and nodded to his nephew. It was just like when Owen was a little kid all over again. The same cheeky attitude and it was enough to distract Deckard for the rest of the day.

\---------

Raider managed to get his work hours sorted and with Finley back in school, Deckard was free to return to the US, no matter how reluctantly. 

Landing in JFK Airport, Deckard pulled his jacket straight on his shoulders, grabbed his duffle bag and slid between people to get off the plane quicker. He flew first class but that doesn’t mean people still don’t take their sweetass time getting off the plane and Deckard really needed to get off the plane as soon as possible. 

Having not checked in any luggage and just using his duffle, Deckard walked straight through passport security (praise to Raider for wiping the systems of Deckard’s criminal record), through baggage pick-up and out into the arrivals suite. He moved over to the side, away from the crowds and dropped his duffle to his feet. Deckard pulled his phone from his pocket and turned it on, having to wait for it to load. Time to hire a car to get home, he thought.

Once it loaded, Deckard unlocked his phone and pulled up the contacts app, scrolling until he saw a familiar name. He pressed the name and waited for it to started ringing as he lifted it to his ear.

“Deckard, what’s up?”

“Need a temp car, Ramsey, you got one you can get lent to me?” 

“Sure, Deck, how soon can you get to the drop off spot?” Deckard could hear the sound of her typing in the background, probably finding a car that didn’t have a history for Deckard to take.

“Seven minutes.”

“There’ll be one waiting for you in ten,” Ramsey told him.

Deckard thanked her and ended the call, and started to set off towards where he knew the drop off site was. 

\----------

Having picked up the car, Deckard took a slow drive back to Luke’s place, trying to think about what he wanted to say to Luke when he got back. They’d not addressed what Deckard had said, no matter how much they spoke on the phone and Deckard wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Owen’s words rolled around in his head and he started to think that maybe Owen wasn’t right. Whilst he knew that Owen was right in that no relationship can be compared to another, it didn’t matter because Deckard was sure he’d fucked up enough to end this relationship.

Fuck.

He loved Luke as well.

Soon enough, he was pulling up to the driveway of Luke’s house and he knocked the car out of gear and pulled the keys out. Deckard sat back momentarily, taking in the big house in front of him and the family within it. 

The seven months Deckard and Luke had now been together had been good, brilliant even, now that they'd stopped wanting to kill each other. The past month less so great, even if Luke didn't really change how he'd spoken to Deck, he could feel a change in Luke through their calls. Maybe just their 'brilliant' relationship wasn't meant for this.

Sam.

Fuck.

He really loved that kid. She'd become family to Deckard; even Owen tolerates Hobbs just to see Sam. Sam was an enigma all of her own, but she was one of the best football (yes, Deckard should be saying soccer, but dammit he's British and he won't have Finley kick him in the shins because he called it soccer again) players he'd even seen and she was insanely clever. Her geography and history grades were phenomenal and what she lacked in math she more than made up for in effort. 

Fuck.

This kid was special, Deckard thought.

"Deckard!" A voice screamed as the front door of the house was torn open and a body ran at his car. 

He barely had chance to climb out before Sam was jumping on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. He'd grown more comfortable with the young girl hugging him over time, no longer worried that she felt weird about him hugging her even though she was mostly the one to initiate the hugs. Deckard hugged her back, holding her tightly as he ran a hand over her hair.

"I've missed you," She told him.

"Missed you too, sweetheart."

Deckard held her a moment longer, before pulling back and looking her in the eye.

"I'm so proud of you, you know that right?" He told her, watching as she looked confusedly up at him, "No matter what happens, I'll always be proud of you. And when I'm not around, if you need me I'll be here."

"Deck, what are you trying to say? Are you leaving?" Sam asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she half glared and half looked up at him with pure confusion.

"No, he's not going anywhere."

Both Deckard and Sam looked up towards the doorway, where Luke was stood leaning against the frame. Deckard released Sam from his hold and dropped back to lean against the car. 

"So, when are we going to talk about this?"

"Right now," Luke told him, "Sam go to your room."

"But dad-"

"Now, little lady."

Sam huffed and with another hug to Deckard, sprinted into the house and ran up the stairs. Deckard looked up and saw her little face peering out of the window, looking to see what was going on and Deckard shook his head at her. 

"So, you love me, huh?"

Deckard dropped his eyes and breathed deeply, thinking about what Owen had said.

"Yeah, weren’t how I pictured telling you, on a phone call when I was three meters away from murdering Owen, but it kind of slipped out? Sorry."

Deckard didn't look up; instead he turned around and pulled up the hood to look at the engine of the car.

A V8. Nice. Ramsey chose well.

Trying to ignore the pitiful silence he fell into with Luke didn't really work and his mind was racing. Maybe Owen hit the jackpot in that Luke wasn't worth it. But dammit why should Owen be able to find the love of his life and Deckard was still struggling through. He really wanted Luke to be at least the guy who would make a lot of difference to him. They'd been through too much for it to come crashing down on them due to three stupid words.

Two hands grabbed Deckard's shoulder and spun him around.

Suddenly every memory of the fights the pair of them had engaged in over the years came back to him and an unexpected laugh worked its way out of him.

"Stop thinking for once, princess," Luke told him, resting his forehead against Deckard's as he pulled him into a hug, not too dissimilar to how he'd been hugging Sam earlier, "You must be real stupid if you think you telling me you love me would scare me off. After everything we've been through?"

"Owen said he'd kick you ass if this went wrong."

"There'll be no kicking of ass, at least not over this, Crumpets."

Deckard let go of Luke and pushed back, looking up at him with a quizzical look.

"I love you too, you donut," Luke told him, pulling Deckard back in and holding him tightly.

"You love me.." Deckard whispered, grin breaking out on his face, "At least Finley won't kill you now."

"You mean Owen, right?"

"No, I meant my nephew."

"Isn't he four years old?"

"Yeah," Deckard murmured, happy to just be held and feel Luke against him, "Four year olds are brutal."

"Right," Luke responded, causing Deckard to laugh slightly at the confusion and slight horror in his loves voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine person A and person B being on a phone call and A has to go. They mean to say goodbye but they say I love you, only realizing after they hung up. The family in the next room just hears “FUCK!”


End file.
